


I Can Barely Say (Don't read this)

by ManicMulder



Series: Oneshots and drafts that I hate but I somehow wrote [1]
Category: The X-Files
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28484994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManicMulder/pseuds/ManicMulder
Summary: my own story idea that came from my weird neurotypical brain.... I have nowhere to archive my stories so I'm putting this here.
Series: Oneshots and drafts that I hate but I somehow wrote [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086524
Kudos: 1





	I Can Barely Say (Don't read this)

"Dana Scully, we are looking forward to you working with Agent Mulder. You seem best fit for him. He recently lost his ASAC, Reggie, whom he greatly adored. It was hard for him, probably still is."

"So I'm also spying on him?" she questioned, taking a look at the file on him. She had only briefly looked at it, but when she got to the medical records, she felt like she was breaching privacy. One word did catch her eye, and that was in the description, he was listed as "autistic." He had above average intelligence but greatly lacked his social and communication skills.

"No, Agent Scully. You're his partner."

"How did he get hired?" she asked.

"His father is a very important man in the State Department," is all the older man said before dismissing her.

She walked down to the basement and every possibility was running through her head. She made note to read more of his medical file later. What would he look like? How would they work together? Why did they give him a crappy basement?

She stood by the door, waiting for a few minutes. Then she knocked. "Agent Mulder?" No response, but she could tell someone was in there. She tried the doorknob, and it was unlocked.

Walking in, she saw a man, with his back turned, busy working at his desk. "Agent Mulder?" she repeated.

He finally looked up at her, but didn't make direct eye contact.

"I'm Mulder," he said. "Call me Mulder."

"Ok, Mulder. I'm your new partner, Dana Scully."

She walked closer to him and he turned around. Scully stuck out her arm. Mulder looked at it, then instead noticed her necklace. He reached out surprising her, and started playing with the chain and cross.

Scully never learned too much about psychology, so she didn't know what to do. She just stood there, until he was finished.

"You're catholic?" He still never made eye contact, but he sat back down and continued whatever he was doing on his computer at the desk.

"Yes. I am."

"I'm not," he replied. His voice was very monotone, with almost no expression. "When's Reggie coming back?"

That remark saddened Scully. He didn't understand, probably.

"He's not," she said.

"Everyone says that," Mulder replied. "Even when I ask about my sister."

Scully hadn't read about a sister. What had happened? So many questions.

"Oh," is all she replied.

"I'm in the middle of a case." He got up from his seat and started searching through very messy drawers, mumbling out loud as he searched for what he needed.

"What's it on?" Scully asked leaning closer to look at the files, slightly moving the books out of the way.

Mulder right away got up and moved the books back to where they were. "Don't! It's all where it should be."

His way of language was odd, definitely but she just saw some OCD in him.

"Sorry," she muttered.

"Reggie would've know not to do that," he replied, still working on aligning his books.

Scully felt hurt. She didn't know what to do, and there were no other seats in the office. She just observed his walls, covered in newspaper clippings and photographs. He observed a photo frame on his desk of a young girl who looked just like Mulder. Maybe that was his sister.

Shortly after, Mulder got up, putting on his coat and grabbing car keys.

"Come," he said to Scully as he passed her.

Maybe he didn't hate her after all.

She got in the passenger seat, and he drove, reaching down below to snack on sunflower seeds, not really paying attention to the road. She was more concerned for their safety.

"Where are we going?" Scully asked.

"To interview someone. You can do the talking," he said before pausing. "If Reggie were here, he'd make me do the talking. He said it was 'good to practice.' Practice what? I don't understand how me being autistic should make me different. I'm not. People say they observe me as spooky. I think it's because of my love for the paranormal, not my brain."

So he was still capable enough to get his words out, obviously. He wasn't fully retarded. It was just applying his skills that were hard.

They got to a house and Mulder's anxiety came to him again. He got out of the car, playing with his fingers in a nervous fashion. He handed Scully a piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"The questions."

Scully looked at him, and wondered if she should force him like Reggie, but then she decided to help him out.

At the door, Mulder stood there, his hands stimming as he looked around. The door opened and an older woman answered.

"May I help you?"

"I'm Agent Scully, and this is Agent Mulder with the FBI." We wanted to ask you a few questions..." she looked at the sheet, "regarding your husband's murder." 

Her face fell. "I've moved on. It's over. I get it, he was murdered."

"We believe," she said reading off the sheet, "that he was actually abducted by-" Scully stopped. "Excuse me one second."

She walked a few yards away, Mulder following. Because of his height, he just looked straight over her head. Sometimes Scully didn't know if he was listening or not.

"Mulder, this is- downright ridiculous! I'm not asking her this!"

"Why not?"

"It's not true."

"Why?"

"Mulder."

"Yes."

How did anyone work with Mulder? How was his childhood? Gosh. It must've been hard.

Scully walked up to the woman. "I'm terribly sorry. My partner and I had some misunderstanding. We won't bother you again, have a nice day."

"C'mon, Mulder. Let's go tackle some "real" case."

"No. I have to interview her," he said getting upset easily. "I-I, I need to!" He kept shaking his wrists by his side, probably another stim. He was getting upset and she didn't want to upset him anymore.

"Wait here," Scully said. She walked back to the door and knocked again.

"Look ma'am. I'm sorry to bother you again, and you have every right to, but my partner, could you just, I don't know. Play along with his questions. Just dismiss him, saying he's correct then we can leave? Case closed?"

"Look, I'm going to call your supervisor."

"Wait, he's... autistic. He's very upset right now."

"Oh? I thought so I but I didn't want to assume. I had an autistic brother. It can be tough. It's best to not let him get away with everything. You have to show him some consequences. He can't always get what he wants. You must be new for him? I think I saw him with an older black male a few months ago."

"His old partner died," Scully said. "I'm his new one."

"Oh. I'm sorry. Just tell him I have my closure and I'm fine. He can move onto another case."

"Thank you," she smiled.

Getting back into the car, Mulder was eating more sunflower seeds.

"What now?" Scully asked.

"Therapy."

"Huh?"

"I have to go to therapy. Every Saturday at 4:00 p.m." Scully looked at the clock. It was 3:30 p.m.

—-

30 minutes later, Scully was forced to sit in the car for an hour while Mulder attended his all of a sudden session. She sighed and went to the folder to read about him.

His parents divorced after his sister went missing. They blamed Mulder. The family fell apart. His father didn't want an autistic son and didn't like him.

Later, he went to Oxford, and then to Quantico for training. Reggie was like a father figure to him.

He had been through a lot.

———-

( I dunno where this story is going)

_______

Please speak slowly. My heart is learning.   
Mulder has to testify in court against a serial killer, but he also illegally trespassed without really knowing to obtain evidence.

———-

Mulder fidgeted in the chair. Some idiot had removed one of the pads under one of the legs, causing it to become uneven. It was clearly upsetting him a lot and he hated it. He stood up, and made his way to the defendants side, grabbing the empty chair. Everyone watched as he almost so casually just switched the chairs.

Sitting down he realized, this chair had the same problem but it has all the legs even. The problem has to be the floor.

"Scully, can I have your chair."

"No, Mulder. Sit down. The trial will start soon."

"Scully." He repeated. Scully noticed he was stimming with his hands again, and she didn't want some sort of meltdown in here, so she got up and Mulder sat in her chair. It moved too. He determined it must be the floor's problem.

By now, the courtroom was almost full. It was a big case, and clearly Mulder didn't know that reputation was everything. He walked over to the defendants side. One of the lawyers was out of his seat, so Mulder tried sitting down. That seat had no issue.

"Scully."

"Mulder! We can't be on that side!"

Scully was nervous because any second, the judge would walk in. They needed to look presentable. No one knew that Mulder was autistic except the bureau, so naturally this trial would be tough.

Scully grabbed his arm and tried pulling him up but he wouldn't move. Instead, he reached for Scully's necklace again, as he always did.

"Mulder, get back here!" She looked to the annoyed lawyer in the defendants side. "Sorry," she said. She tugged at Mulder more. Then she had an idea. She pulled her necklace back. "You can play with it if you come to this side."

Mulder took this as a yes, so he got up, and made his way back to the uneven seat, but instead of sitting, he took a stack of papers, and put it under the chair until all four legs were perfectly even.

Satisfied, he sat down and started reaching for Scully's necklace again. She never understood why he was so drawn to it, especially since he was probably agnostic.

She saw the door about to open, so she pushed his hands back and pointed to the front, that was enough to get Mulder to face forward. The judge walked in and everyone stood.

"Opening statements from the plaintiff?"

Scully stood up. This was a serious trial because they had just caught a prolific serial killer, but he was suing the FBI, because Mulder obtained the evidence by trespassing into his house without a warrant. The whole point was to have enough evidence outside, and also get Mulder off the charge. Scully didn't want to, but she was going to say he wasn't competent enough to stand trial, despite having a very intelligent IQ.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you will hear that the defendant, Frederick Wells, is guilty of seventeen out of the twenty suspected murders. The evidence you will see, is enough to charge him. Agent Mulder's evidence obtained, will have to be discarded, but he did not know that his actions were not just." She slightly grimaced saying that. Every FBI Agent should know what is right, and what isn't. Skinner's career was on the line too for being his supervisor.

Scully sat down and the defendants went next.

"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you'll see here, that Frederick Wells is accused of these murders, but strong evidence is lacking."

The evidence agent Mulder found, Scully thought. This isn't going to go well. It'll be a tough trial.

Frederick Wells was indeed guilty of a few of the murders, but it would take a while to go over more evidence to suggest he murdered many more young women. That's what they had to prove.

The defendant ended the opening statement, and Scully had to admit, it was a strong statement.

After some standard witness examinations, they confirmed he killed at least five of the seventeen suspected, but now, the main concern was Mulder's actions.

"I call Agent Mulder up," Scully said.

Mulder was zoning out and didn't hear anything at all. He was slowly rocking back in forth in the chair, observing the crinkled paper keeping the chair balanced.

He only looked up when he heard a sharp snap in front of him. Out of reflex, he gave a small Yelp and covered his ears, but it was only Scully.

"Mulder, get up here," she said.

Mulder stood up and sat in the chair. What was he doing again? Oh that's right. Someone is angry at him, and it's putting a strain somehow on the FBI and others.

Scully placed Mulder's hand on a Bible, but he just kept pulling it off. He looked at Scully briefly. "I'm not religious."

"Alright Mr. Mulder. All you need is an affirmation. Do you swear to tell the truth, The whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

"Yes," Mulder sat down.

Scully whispered something in his ear before he got back up and said,"I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

After he sat back down again, he leaned into the mic. "But what is the truth? I know many people in this room-"

Mulder paused as the judge banged her gavel. "Mr. Mulder! Let your partner ask questions, and you answer."

"Answer," he repeated playing around with the microphone.

"State your name," Scully said.

"Nobody down here but the FBI's most unwanted," he said, still in his complete poker face, with the monotone voice, even though he was cracking a joke.

"Mr. Mulder, please answer your partners questions seriously."

Scully was getting annoyed. Did no one suspect Mulder had autism. She didn't want to, but she was going to eventually play that card.

"Fox William Mulder. Call me Mulder. I don't like it when people call me Fox."

Scully suddenly turned to the judge. "Your honor, I find it that Agent Mulder is not competent to stand trial."

"Objection!" The defendants lawyer, Caffrey replied. "He's an FBI agent!"

"Overruled. Ms. Scully, tell me more."

"Agent Mulder has autism." A low murmur was heard, and mostly people getting their satisfied answer for his behavior on that.

"Mulder, can you tell me what autism is?"

"But you know, Scully..." he said, sounding confused.

"Tell everyone else who doesn't know."

"My father's definition or the textbook?"

"What you feel like saying."

"Autism spectrum disorder (ASD) is a developmental disability that can cause significant social, communication and behavioral challenges."

"Mulder, do you understand the charges brought before you?" Everyone was staring at Mulder. It made him uncomfortable. He started playing with his shirt collar. It was getting hot, and the collar was annoying him. He seemed to forget about the question, because Scully had to snap and he looked up again as she repeated her question.

Mulder did forget the charges, so asked, "Uhm, what charges?"

"You were accused of trespassing on Wells' property, and obtaining crucial evidence to this investigation."

"Oh yeah. I think you told me that, but it makes no sense if that's wrong."

"Objection. This is going nowhere," Caffrey said.

"Ms. Scully. I suggest you give us a more general basis to go on."

Scully was getting impatient. No one probably understood Mulder's condition really. They probably looked on him as a retard. She had to say something.

Now, Mulder had fixated on his tie, trying to make it exactly even, and to his liking.

"I have Agent Mulder's records here, from the times he's met with psychiatrists, psychologists and therapists. You'll see that this behavior has been evident since before his sister's abduction. He's never fully grasped the concept of knowing right and wrong. It's true, Mulder's IQ is above average, but while he may be what we call "book-smart," he also has impairment in his social skills and certain processing. I suggest you take a look, and you'll see that Agent Mulder is not competent to stand trial. Nothing further, your honor."

Scully handed the files to the judge, who in silence for about ten minutes read through them, Mulder now back in his seat. The only sound that could be heard in the courtroom was Mulder stimming and fidgeting around.

"Agent Scully, let's hear the cross examination first."

Caffrey got up, and Mulder was back on the witness stand. He got very close to Mulder, trying to act intimidating. It did seem to work, because Mulder scooted the chair slightly back. His interest in the moment were the glasses that Caffrey was wearing. The sides looked slightly textured, and he reached out, but Caffrey smacked his hand away, causing Mulder to give another one of his "so-called weird" yelps.

"Your honor, Caffrey hit Mulder!" Scully said angrily.

"Agent Mulder, I don't have time for games. I need to know, did you pass the FBI testing?"

"Yes."

"Did you read the official guide and manual to the bureau?"

"Every single word," he replied.

"Now, do you know what trespassing is?"

"Yes."

"Care to explain?"

Mulder had now picked up a pen and started twirling it around his fingers. "Explain?"

"Explain what trespassing is."

"The legal definition of trespassing is 'Entering property without consent or permission of the owner." If the home has a "no trespassing" sign at the entrance of the land, it is illegal for anyone to walk onto the property, such as door-to-door salesmen and others who might be walking from door-to-door. Page 34, second two, paragraph five, lines 7-9."

"So you're aware it's illegal."

"Yes."

No, Mulder. What are you doing!

"So you are aware you trespassed into Frederick Wells' home?"

"I didn't."

"But you did!" Caffrey was getting annoyed. He snatched the pen from Mulder. "Look in my eyes."

Mulder did for a second, before turning back down towards the floor. His hands started stimming again, but no one noticed. He was also starting to sweat. "I didn't," he repeated.

"I don't get it, Mulder! You know what trespassing is but you say you didn't do it? Please tell me why."

"I didn't," he repeated, each time getting visibly more upset. He remembered back when he was younger, whenever he repeated something like saying he didn't do something, his father would hit him. Somehow, the repetition made him want to do that. Mulder quickly stopped repeating when he saw Caffrey glowering at him.

"You did trespass! The evidence you obtained, however crucial it may be, cannot be used! Do you understand that?"

"It ties Frederick to twelve more murders," Mulder said. "I thought this was his trial."

"It is. But you're a witness, who did something illegal."

"I didn't."

Caffrey gave a loud sigh on purpose. He stood very close to the witness stand again. "Agent Mulder, I don't think you understand the severity of this."

"Objection. Opinion," Scully interjected.

"Sustained."

"Agent Mulder, let me rephrase, were you aware you tresspassed to obtain information illegally?"

"I didn't the information-"

"BUT YOU DID. WE HAVE CONCRETE PROOF!" Caffrey practically screamed.

"Order!" The judge loudly stated, smacking the gavel again. That thing was loud. Everything was loud Mulder was sweating. He wiped his hands on his pants. He also hated getting shouted at. It reminded him of his childhood, so Mulder did something no one expected, he started to cry. Many would say Mulder, despite his constant poker face and expressionless voice, he was very overly emotional.

A few sounds escaped as he covered his face in his hands. He didn't want to cry. It just sort of happened. It took a second for everyone to realize what Mulder was doing, but he had started to press his forehead hard. Scully could tell he was digging his palms into his face. He was trying to harm himself.

"Your honor, we need a recess immediately."

She agreed. "We'll take a fifteen minute recess."

Several of the public got up to either go to the bathroom or chat in a low whisper about what was going on. Scully walked up to Mulder, who had gotten out of the seat, and was hiding behind the witness stand.

Scully glared at Caffrey as she bent down to Mulder. Skinner had also come up, and he was there for any instant where Mulder tried to hurt himself. It had happened before at a few meetings. One time Mulder got so upset, Skinner actually had to sedate him, because he was bashing his head into the wall.

"Mulder," she started. "Can you tell me what upset you?"

Mulder wasn't responding. His whole face was still covered by his hands, but his sobs were getting louder. Scully secretly sighed of relief because he was behind the stand, so no one except the judge and jury could see what was going on.

He then started to hit himself in the forehead. Then he banged his head against the side. That must've hurt. Scully knew to try to calm him down by voice first. "Mulder, stop that, do you want my necklace? Look?" But nothing was working.

"I didn't do it. I didn't... I didn't..." he practically screamed, causing more heads to turn. Scully nodded at Skinner, which was their code. He knew what was going to happen.

Skinner grabbed Mulder's arms, and almost like a father does with a young child, he sat Mulder, with his back against his own chest, grabbing Mulder's arms and making and crossing them, while holding his wrists. He knew that this position wasn't that ideal, but he didn't want him getting hurt. Scully let Skinner do it, because she was much smaller than Mulder.

"It's alright, Mulder," Scully said.

"Over sensitive," Caffrey muttered.

"You have no empathy," Scully shot back, and then returned her attention back to Mulder. His violent sobs had subsided, and Skinner was still holding him.

"Can you tell me now, Mulder? Why you were upset?"

"He was going to hit me," Mulder replied, a new set of tears streaming down.

"I was not," Caffrey said.

Scully, still ignoring him asked, "Why?"

"He was shouting at me. It's what my father did."

This wasn't new information to Scully or Skinner, but suddenly Caffrey felt guilty. "I'm sorry."

Skinner finally released the grip on Mulder, and he did something he had never done before. Still sitting down, now in an upright position, he reached for Scully and hugged her. Scully felt his fingers plying with her necklace, but she too was shocked. Mulder was hugging her. She returned it back, and he didn't flinch.

"Are we ready?" The judge asked. "I can extend recess."

Mulder looked upset again. "No, no, no, no. I don't want to," he said. It made Scully said. He sounded like a child having a panic attack, or being forced to do something fearful like have blood drawn.

"I'm done with the cross-examination," Caffrey said.

"That's it?"

"I agree with you," he said. "Clearly Mulder doesn't understand. But this still means his evidence can't be used."

Everyone eventually returned back, and Mulder had wiped his face, and sat again, in the chair on top of the paper, but he was holding Scully's hand, and wouldn't let go. He found some sort of comfort by doing so. His big hand was making Scully's smaller hand sweat, but if it kept him calm, it was fine.

The trial ended after another two days of evidence, and in the end, Frederick Wells was convicted of thirteen of the seventeen murders accused, although clearly the "illegal" evidence would've for sure confirmed the others. Interesting how the justice system works.

It was very exhausting for everyone, and they were relieved that it was over.


End file.
